


Striving for Sanity

by ugerchucker



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:23:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10056734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ugerchucker/pseuds/ugerchucker
Summary: Illya goes undercover in an insane asylum to discover why a THRUSH doctor who disappeared 8 years ago is now a patient.





	

I own nothing apart from the villains and innocent of the story.

 

Paperwork, the bane of the fields agent’s existence. While it had to be done, Napoleon wished he could just have someone else do it, but he had to write up his own experiences on any given mission and until they employed a genuine telepath, he was stuck with the tedious task. Sometimes, when he was able to charm the right female operative, he was able to convince them to type it up, but everyone was already busy with their own work.

Sighing, he looked across the room at Illya, who had finished his report and was tinkering with some little gadget.

Screwing up the third failed attempt, Napoleon threw the sheet of paper at the bin, to join the first two.

“If I have to start this report again, I'm going to go crazy.” He said, reeling in a new sheet of paper

“That would be entertaining to watch.” Illya commented, not looking up from his work.

“You know, it still amazes me the wonderful advancements of technology and yet we still have to type up our reports on typewriters.”

Illya sighed and chose not to comment. He was starting to wonder if he should move to one of the labs. It would free him of Napoleon's complaining.

Napoleon sighed and started typing again. He stopped at the first paragraph.

“I need a cup of coffee.” He announced. “That sound focus the mind.” 

“Or create a pointless distraction.” Illya put down his screwdriver and stood up. “I will make the coffee while you write.” 

“Thanks.” Napoleon said, sounding anything but grateful. Before he could type another word his communicator beeped. 

“Mr Solo,” The voice on the other end said. “Mr Waverly would like to see you and Mr. Kuryakin in his officer right away.” 

“We’ll be right there.” He said, happily. 

“You have been granted a reprieved.” Illya observed, picking up his jacket.

“Wonderful” Solo jumped up, smiling as he headed for the door, 

“But never fear, the report will be waiting for you when you return,” Illy said, with the barest hint of a smile. Solo was tempted to literally boot him out the door 

*

Upon entering Waverly's office, they automatically took their seats at the revolving desk.

“Ah, gentlemen,” Waverly greeted from his usual chair, “I hope those reports will be finished soon.”

“Mine are, sir.” Illya said, giving Napoleon a quick glance who just scowled.

“Good, well, I have something I need the two of you to look into in the meantime.” Waverly lowered the lights in the room and turned on the projector, which displayed an image of a middle aged man with dark hair and a goatee.

“This, gentlemen, is Dr. Arnold Romulus, a high ranking scientist in THRUSH who hasn't been seen in over eight years.” The next slide showed the man entering a building surrounded by a couple of heavily built men. He looked more or less the same except minus the goatee. “One of our agents, while on another assignment recognised him and took this picture of him entering St Theresa's Psychiatric Hospital in New Jersey.”

“An odd place to be visiting.” Napoleon said.

“We're not sure if he was.” Waverly turned off the projector and turned on the lights. “We've had an agent watching the place for the past week and he hasn't left.”

“You think he was committed?” Illya asked

“It doesn't seem likely.” Napoleon said. “I doubt THRUSH cares much for their member's mental health. They'd just dispose of them. Permanently”

“Or promote them.” Illya couldn't help saying. Napoleon smiled.

“Quite.” Waverly said, producing his pipe.” So we need to know what he's doing there. We tried contacting the administration, but they don't want to give out any information, saying it's all confidential. We don't have any proof that he's doing anything nefarious in there, however, we were able to find out about two unexplained deaths occurring since his admittance, but neither of them seems to have been investigated. Both were classed as accidental. I think it's worth checking out.”

“By checking out, I suppose you mean by...checking in.” Napoleon said, not liking where this was heading.

“You could say that.” Waverly lit his pipe. “Mr. Kuryakin will go undercover as a patient. While there, you will find Dr. Romulus and observe his activities.”

“You want me to get myself committed?” Illya asked, clarifying.

“I always suspected you weren't quite right in the head.” Napoleon teased.

Illya rolled his eyes. “It's putting up with you.” He mumbled. 

“How you get committed I'll leave up to you.” Waverly continued. “As for you Mr. Solo, I'd like you to speak to some of the staff. See if you can get any information out of them.”

“That would include nurses, I presume.” He said, with a hint of a smile.

“Indeed. Anyone who might be able to shed some light on the matter.”

“I'm sure I can make someone talk.”

Illya rolled his eyes. Waverly just nodded. “I’m sure you can. Dismissed.”

Leaving the room, side by side, Napoleon stopped just outside the door.

“So, any ideas how you're going to convince anyone you're coo coo bananas?” Napoleon asked.

“I'm considering what the most convincing approach would be. Anything too over the top would be suspicious. I would also need to keep a low profile, so maybe severe depression.” 

Napoleon nodded. “I think you should just be yourself”

“No more joking, Napoleon...” Illya said, sounding irritated. He didn't like the thought of this assignment as it was. He'd never been inside a mental hospital as a patient before and if they were anything like the ones back in Russia, he'd need to be constantly on his guard.

“Hear me out, my crazy Russian friend. I have an idea"

• 

Only another hour to go and Officer Jerry Bateman would be off duty. He was looking forwards to getting home, his last patrol had been so boring. Nothing much ever happened on his route. Apart from the odd bit of shop lifting, the occasional domestic dispute and nearly every other day some stupid young man caught speeding down country lanes in a flashy car. He sometimes wished he still worked in the city, but it was easier to raise a family on the outskirts. 

So far today nothing had happened and he was looking forwards to sitting in the garden with a beer and his wife. Those dreams were put out of his mind when he spotted someone up a tree. From a distance he thought it might be some kid, but as he got closer he could make out it was a man with floppy, blond hair, wearing a suit and peering through a small pair of binoculars. It wasn't unusual for Batemen to have to deal with peeping Toms. However, the man wasn't looking in the direction of any of the houses, but instead the psychiatric hospital. Why anyone would want to watch that place bewildered the officer. The place gave him the creeps just thinking about it.

“Hey, you up there?” Officer Bateman called up to the man. The man looked down at him.

“Go away.” He said and went back to looking through his binoculars.

“You can't tell me to go away, I'm an officer.” he said, irritated. “What are you doing up there?”

“I'm hiding, please go away.”

The officer sighed. He didn't want to be dealing with this right now.

“I might go away if you come down here and explain what you're doing.”

The man seemed to consider this. Officer Bateman wasn't sure what he do if the man didn't come down, he was hardly in the mood to go up and get him. Plus the man hadn't technically done anything wrong, but he didn't like being told to go away.

“All right.” The man climbed down from the tree, rather gracefully, as if he'd had a lot of experience climbing trees. Once on the ground he pulled the officer behind the tree and looked around nervously.

“You must leave now or they might notice us.”

Bateman frowned. “Who's they? Who are you hiding from and what were you doing up that tree?”

“They belong to an evil organization intent on taking over the world. They have spies everywhere. I’ve been observing them”

This was not what Bateman had expected to hear. This had to be a joke.

“Really? And why are they after you?” Bateman asked, deciding to humour the man for a moment.

“It is my job to fight them. I'm currently on a mission to stop one of their evil schemes.” The man looked around anxiously. 

Bateman sighed. This was sounding nuts. He didn't know much about spies or secret agents, but he was pretty sure they didn't just blurt out their identities to random policeman.

“What evil scheme?” Bateman asked, deciding to play along. It was certainly making an otherwise dull day interesting.

“I can't tell you that, but you must believe me that these people are dangerous. They have done so many terrible things.”

“Really?” Bateman encouraged.

“Yes, they've created tiny killer bees, radioactive bats, a gas that can kill you with the hiccups and even a plot to revive Hitler.”

Bateman raised an eyebrow. He was starting to wonder if they guy was just playing with him, but he looked so sincere. But it was all crazy. Something out of fiction. The man had obviously seen too many movies.

“Is that so,” Bateman frowned. As he'd listened he'd managed to pick up that the guy had a foreign accent. “What's your name?”

“Illya.”

“Do you have any family around here? You should probably get on home where you'll be safe.”

“I can't go back there. It's crawling with their agents.”

Bateman sighed. “All right, how about you follow me to the station. You'll be safe there surrounded by police officers?”

The man considered the offer and nodded. “I hope you're right.”

 

At the station Officer Bateman led Illya to his Sergeants office. He wasn't sure what else to do with the young man, who'd spent most of the walk to the station constantly looking over his shoulder. They needed to find out where he'd come from and hopefully ring somebody who could come and collect him.

“Take a seat, Illya.” Sergeant John Peters said, kindly. He looked like a sweet grandfather figure with a bushy moustache and silver hair.

“Now, son, Jerry here tells me you're hiding from some nasty people. Is there anyone we can call to help you?”

Officer Bateman had explained everything to the Sergeant who was just as doubtful as they officer, thinking it was all had to be a joke, but there was something in the young man's eyes that said he truly believed what he was saying.

“I have tried calling my partner, but he doesn't seem to be answering.”

“Maybe we can try, what's his number?”

“I don't call him on the phone, we have communicators”

“A communicator?” Jerry Sergeant Peters said. “Like a radio?”

“Very much like a radio, only not quite.” Illya pulled a metal pen out of the inside pocket of his jacket. “I will try to contact him again.” Illya took the lid off the pen. “Open Channel D. Napoleon, are you there?” There was no answer.

Sergeant Peters and Officer Bateman looked at each other.

“Do you mind if I look at that?” Bateman asked, reaching for the pen. Illya pulled back.

“He won't speak to you.”

“I just want to look at it, I'm curious.” Illya looked down at the pen and back up at the officer. Slowly, he handed it over.

“Give it straight back if Napoleon answers.”

Bateman nodded. Napoleon? Who in their right mind or in this day and age was called Napoleon. He checked the pen over, but there was nothing unusual about it. It was just a normal fountain pen.  
Bateman showed his superior before handing it back to Illya.

“Okay, son, I'm starting to believe you're having some fun and games with us.”

“Believe me, I would not joke about these people. They are dangerous. At their hands I have been drugged, beaten, tortured, locked in numerous cells and even wrapped up like a mummy.”

Sergeant Peters put his head in his hands. “Who are they?” 

Illya looked at each man intently and then did a sweep of the room with his eyes. “I cannot say, they have spies everywhere.”

Sergeant Peters gave the young man a long, searching look. Being a good policemen included being about to read people, so as to properly assess the truth. Everything in the man’s body language and speech said he really believed what he was saying. That either meant what he was saying was the truth or he believed it to be. However, he was unable to convince Peter's that what he was saying was true, it was all just too...fanciful.

If he was convinced the guy was having a laugh with him, he'd just send him on his way, but if he was delusional he wouldn't feel comfortable letting him go until someone came to collect him.

“All right. There must be someone I can call to help you. A friend or a family member?”

“You could always try Napoleon on this number.” He took a piece of card out of his pocket. On the back was a number and the words “If found please call.”

“He might not answer though.”

Peter's dialled the number, hoping whoever was on the other end was in their right mind.

“Hello?” A voice answered.

“Hello, this is Sergeant Peters at the...police department. Is that...Napoleon.”

The was a pause followed by a sigh. “Is this about Illya?”

“Yes, it is, he's currently in my office telling me some interesting stories”

“I'm not surprised. First off my name is not Napoleon, there is no Napoleon. I'm Frank Smith. Illya is my brother-in-law and as you've probably realised he's not quite right in the head. We've been out looking for him all afternoon. We'll be right down to pick him up.”

 

So far everything had gone just as Napoleon had planned. While he probably would have enjoyed seeing his partner act like a total loon, he figured the best way to convince anyone that Illya was mad was to make them believe that what he was telling them was the truth and he believed it and what better way than to have him tell the truth. Or at least part of the truth,

After all, out of context half the stuff they experienced on their missions did sound either made up or insane. Especially that whole business with Illya becoming wrapped up like a mummy. Napoleon still had no idea what that was all about. Napoleon was adamant that they didn't use the name THRUSH, just in case there were any of their agents around.

All the charade needed now was for Napoleon to dispel everything Illya had said, in case the police were starting to believe it. For this Napoleon had enlisted Alexandria's help. She was Russian and worked in the translation department. She had blonde hair, blue eyes and without too much inspection could pass for a relative of Illya's. She had been quite excited about getting out into the field, even for just a day.

A policeman escorted Napoleon to the Sergeants office and led them inside.

“All right, where is he?” Napoleon demanded the moment he stepped into the room. He was wearing a fake moustache and a fedora hat along with his usual suit. The Sergeant behind the desk stood up to address him.

“You are Mr. Smith?” He asked.

“I am.”

Alexandria pushed past him and flung her arms around Illya.

“There you are, Illyusha, we've been looking all over for you.” She hugged him a little too tightly and dramatically.

“Where did you find him?” Napoleon asked.

“Napoleon, you shouldn't be here,” Illya said, trying to free himself from the bear hug. “It might not be safe.”

Napoleon sighed. “For the last time, my name is not Napoleon. There is no Napoleon. This has got to stop.”

“Excuse me, sir” Sergeant Peters stood up to address him. “But I'd like a few explanations. One of my officers found this young man up a tree saying some evil men were after him.”

“That sounds like one of his fantasies. We're always finding him up trees or on the roof.” He moved around to address his fellow actors. “I keep telling you Alex, he should be locked up.”

“He'll get better...” Alexandria began.

“No, he won't, not without help. This is becoming too much. What if he decides to attack someone he thinks is part of this silly evil organisation?”

“Napoleon,” Illya pulled away from his overbearing 'sister' and took his partner to one side, but still within hearing distance of the policeman.

“I need to leave, I'm close to finding out what they're up to...”

“Listen to me,” Napoleon grabbed Illya by the arms and looked him right in the eye. “My name is Frank Smith, I'm your brother-in-law and I'm sick to death of these fantasies of yours. Unless you give up on them right now, I'm going to send you to the nearest asylum and let them sort you out.”

“You wouldn't?”

“You're leaving me no choice, chum.”

“You back stabbing, traitor.” Napoleon tried to stop himself from flinching as the expected fist came towards his face and connected. He dropped to the floor rubbing his jaw while Officer Bateman and Sergeant Peter's rushed Illya and pulled him back just as the Russian moved in for another blow.

“I think maybe we should let him cool off in the cells for a bit while I call Dr. Ryder.”

“Yes, do that.”

Alexandria helped Napoleon back to his feet while Officer Bateman dragged a struggling Illya out the door, where he was met by another officer who helped him.

“I presume this Dr. Ryder is a psychiatrist?”

“Yes, he primarily works up at St Theresa's Psychiatric Hospital. It's just on the outskirts of town.”

“Good, I hope he finds what he needs there.”

 

When Dr. Ryder came to evaluate Illya, he was presented with much the same wild stories and overall paranoia as had been presented to the police. He still insisted on calling his 'brother-in-law' Napoleon and that evil people were out to get him. Dr. Ryder wasn't able to see through the deception owning in part of Illya's, acting, but also because for the most part everything he was saying was true and he believed it.

With both Napoleon's and Alexandria's permission Illya was taken to St Theresa's pretty much straight away. However, there was the problem of making the show convincing without Illya giving them any reason to sedate or restrain him. Napoleon solved that with a few words spoken outside the police station where St Theresa's ambulance was waiting to take him away. Again, within earshot.

“Now, I've found a place for you to hideout away from the evil people. Get in the van and they'll take you to a safe house, okay?”

“So, you do believe me?” Illya said,

“Uh, yes, just promise me you'll be good, all right?”

Illya nodded. “I will.”

Alexandria gave her 'brother' one last overly dramatic and tear-eyed hug before the orderlies led Illya into the ambulance. 

Napoleon waved it off, his arm around Alexandria, while mentally he was mapping out the next step. Phase one was complete, but the next phase was going to be tricky. While he trusted his partner was more than up to the task of finding Dr. Romulus and surviving whatever the asylum had in store, that didn't mean he wasn't concerned. He was certainly glad he had the outside role.

“I'm afraid I'll have to leave you my dear.” Napoleon whispered. “I've got some nurses to chase.”

 

Although Illya had never set foot inside St Theresa's he had done a bit of homework on it before the assignment. It was an old building, built pre-war and had been a functioning asylum all that time. It was not huge, but housed over a hundred patients. There wasn't much else he could find out about it. While a lot of psychiatric hospitals were either closing down or releasing more of their non-violent patient back into the community, St. Theresa's hadn't released any patients for months.

As the ambulance approached the admitting bay, Illya wondered if he was entering a prison instead of a hospital. The windows had bars on them and the size of the orderlies that came to welcome him seemed rather excessive. He reminded himself that he needed to down play things to avoid being drugged or restrained.

The doors opened and the orderlies helped him out of the ambulances. They guided him through the main doors and over to a desk. A nurse was sat behind it reading over some papers. She looked to be in a mid-forties and very tired. The badge introduced her as Nurse Carter.

Illya looked around, making a quick note of everything. There was a door leading off into a corridor and another door with a sign saying 'Private. Staff Only”

“You must be Mr...” The nurse consulted her notes. “Kuryakin. Dr. Ryder rung ahead.” She paused to write something on the file. “The doctor will be round later to make a complete evaluation, but for now let's get you settled in. You're on ward 5. These man while show you there and get you settled. Any questions?”

“Do you have any killer dogs here?” Illya asked. “I am not fond of dogs.”

The nurse just stared at him. She'd heard far stranger.

“No.” She said bluntly. “All right, take him away.”

The orderlies led him away through the door and down the corridor. They weren't very gentle, practically dragging him forwards with almost enough force to lift him off the ground. Illya was tempted to say something but decided to play the docile patient for the time being.

The orderlies led him off into a side room, that looked like a changing room with showers and benches.

“Put these on” The dark haired orderly said, throwing him some clothes. Illya caught and examined them.

“They aren't my colour,” he said glibly.

“Put them on, or we'll put them on for you.”

When they put it like that, Illya couldn't refuse. However, there wasn't anywhere for him to change discreetly. The shower stalls didn't have curtains and there were no walls or dividers. The orderlies weren't going to turn their backs so Illya just sighed and started to undress.

The uniform was a simple v-necked scrubs style top and draw-string trousers. They were a little baggy on him, but overall comfortable.

“Is it lunch time now?” Illya asked.

“You’re Russian, aren’t you?” The dark haired orderly said. His name badge introduced him as Frank. 

“Why is that important?” Illya asked. 

“I don’t like Russians.” Frank snarled. 

Illya bit back a number of snarky comments he could make regarding that fact, but chose to stay quiet. He figured it was safer. 

Sadly, he was wrong. Frank darted forwards and grabbed him by the arm, pulling it round his back. On instinct, Illya fought against the hold, and even managed to kick the approaching second guard in the leg. It forced him back, but he was turned and pushed hard against the wall. Illya struggled to push away from the wall, but the weight pressed against him was too much.

“It's bed time.” The orderly took a syringe out of the top pocket of his tunic. He pulled the plastic top off, pulled Illya's trousers down a little and plunged the needle into his hip.

“Welcome to the nut house.”

 

Moving away from the window, Napoleon checked his surroundings, making sure no-one was observing him. He'd just planted a communicator outside the window of what he'd managed to work out was the common room. While he waited to hear from Illya he needed to proceed with his part of the plan: get information out of the staff. He figured the best (and hopefully the most enjoyable) person to ask would be a nurse but he needed to be very careful which one he spoke to. He'd have to run a background check on them to make sure they weren't in the pay of THRUSH or had any other criminal past.

Upon reflection he realised it wouldn't look good meeting any of the nurses outside the hospital as they might wonder why he was prowling around, so he headed to the local bar. It was a fair assumption that one of them might stop by there after work.

He got lucky as before he even reached the bar, he spotted a pretty young blonde standing outside a chemist fumbling around in her purse, a cigarette dangling from her lips. Napoleon smiled and approached.

“Would you like a light, Miss.” He asked

“Oh, thank you.” She said, but as she opened her mouth the cigarette fell and landed on the dirty ground.

“Oh, shoot!” The nurse exclaimed. “That was my last one.”

“Here, allow me.” Napoleon said, taking out his cigarette case and offered her one.

“You're very kind.” She took the cigarette and let him light it. She took a long drag and let it out slowly. “Oh, I needed that.”

“Tough day?” Napoleon asked.

“Yeah, same as the day before and the day before. In fact, I can't remember the last time I had an easy day.”

“You work at St. Theresa's, right?”

“How did you know?”

“Oh, simple deduction really. You’re wearing a nurse’s outfit and the closest hospital is St Theresa’s. Of course you could be going to a fancy dress party.”

“You should be a detective.” She took a long drag. “Yeah, I work there. Nearly 3 years now. It can be a rewarding job, but seeing the poor souls who can't...” She stopped. “But I don't want to talk about work. Thanks for the light, Mr?”

“Solo, Napoleon.”

The nurse frowned at the name, but smiled. “Gloria Rankin”

“Nice to meet you, Gloria.” They shook hands. “I hope I'm not being forward, but I'm just on my way to Casey's Bar and I wonder if you'd like to join me. Just for a quick drink.”

Gloria frowned. She looked him up and down. He was handsome and it was rare such handsome men asked her out. “I don't usually go to bars with strangers, but as it's just one drink and I'm pretty well known at the bar, I'm sure I'll be safe. Okay, but just one. I have to work tomorrow.”

 

No matter how many times Illya woke up from being drugged he never got used to it. His thoughts were muggy and he had to think real hard to remember what had happened to receive such treatment.

Oh yes, the orderlies. They'd decided he needed a nap. There were nicer ways to go about it. Or maybe that was the welcome wagon complete with refreshing drug cocktails.

It didn't matter ultimately, Illya needed to shake off the sedation and take in his surroundings. He was lying on a cot, which was situated next to another cot. Turning his head, he could see another. There appeared to be a row of them. He tried to sit up to get a better look, but found his attempt hampered by restraints. Both his wrists and ankles were strapped down.  
Sluggishly Illya tilted his head up instead to get a better look at the room. He could see the whole room was lined with cots. Approximately 8 each side, lining the walls. A desk was situated near the door with a nurse sat behind it. The windows were barred. Only a couple of the beds were occupied. He appeared to be the only one restrained.

Those orderlies must have it in for him already and he'd barely done anything. Not a good sign.

He tested the restraints, hoping he could slip out of them, but while they weren't uncomfortably tight, they left no wiggle room. His only hope was convincing someone that he didn't need to be restrained and at present his only option was the nurse on duty.

Fortunately, his bed was the second one down from the door, so he didn't have to raise his voice much to get her attention.

“Excuse me, miss?” He asked calmly.

The nurse looked up from her paperwork. “Oh, you're awake.”

A redundant statement, Illya thought, but restrained from commenting. “Yes. Could you tell me, why I'm tied to the bed?”

The nurse stood up and approached slowly. “The orderlies that brought you in last night said you were being difficult.”

Last night? Illya looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8:30. Presumably in the morning.

“I might have made an inappropriate comment, but I do no remember being difficult.”

“Well, that's what the orderlies said.” She smiled “Now you're awake I'll call the Doctor down here to evaluate you. Hopefully he'll let you up for breakfast.” She left to make the call.

Illya refrained from rolling his eyes. This was not how he expected the assignment to go. It was made clear to him by both Napoleon and Mr Waverley that he was to behave himself so not to give the hospital staff any reason to restrain or sedate him. It seemed, it took very little encouragement. Though it did make him wonder if the two orderlies were actually THRUSH agents. Either that or just enjoyed abusing their power. He needed to find out which, but first he needed to get free.

It took another hour for Doctor Ryder to come and speak to him. Illya had to still maintain his paranoid persona, while also proving to the doctor that he was calm and would be no danger to anyone. The Doctor was at least convinced that he was calm and non-violent and saw no reason for him to be restrained.

The same orderlies who sedated him the following night led him out of the ward and into a large canteen for breakfast. There wasn't much to choose from, either cereal or porridge. Illya was more than happy with the porridge, he was too starving to care. He had two bowls full before they cut him off.

After breakfast, the patients were free to either return to their beds or go to the common room.

Before Illya could check in with Napoleon he had to do some snooping around. His first priority was the find Dr. Romulus. If he was a patient, logically he would be found amongst them, so his first stop was the common room.

It was a relatively large area, divided into two sections, one had sofas, armchairs and a radio while the other had tables and chairs. There was a small TV on the wall, but the sound wasn’t working and it was showing some old musical.

A lot of the patients were sat playing chess or poker, while the rest were either sat staring into space or standing around doing seemingly nothing. One or two were just wandering aimlessly around in circles.

Illya did a little wandering himself, while looking at everyone suspiciously. Thanks to his cover story of being paranoid that people were out to get him, he felt he didn't need to be surreptitious. It didn't take long to find the Dr. Romulus. He was sat playing chess on his own. He was moving both sides, turning the board around each go. He looked more or less the same as in the photo Illya had memorized, except he had grown a bit of stubble.

Illya made his way to the window at the far end of the room, where he hoped Napoleon had managed to hide a communicator. Making sure he wasn't observed, he felt around the windowsill, grabbed the pen shaped device and hid it behind his back. No one appeared to have paid much attention to him, so he slunk way into a corner.

“Open Channel D. Napoleon?” He made sure to palm the communicator so to the casual observer it looked like was talking into his hand.

“I was expecting to hear from you last night. How's it going in the funny farm?” Napoleon asked.

“Well, their welcoming committee needs firing.” Illya said, keeping his voice down. “They thought I needed a nap.”

“Remember what we discussed, you're supposed to be behaving yourself.”

Illya sighed. “It took no encouragement, believe me. Despite this, I have managed to find Dr. Romulus. He's in the common room playing chess against an invisible opponent.”

“So, he's a patient. Think you can get close to him.”

“I will attempt to. Maybe he'd like a real opponent. How are things progressing your end?”

“Last night I had a few drinks with the lovely Miss Gloria Rankin. She'll be working this morning.”

“Did you get any useful information out of her?”

“Apart from her telephone number, not really. She wasn't very keen to talk about her work. Though, she did say she hasn't been too happy their recently.”

“I'm surprised anyone could be happy in a job like this.”

“Either way, I plan to find out, she’s joining me for lunch. In the meantime, I'm going to see what I can find out about some of the other staff.”

“I'd recommend checking out the orderlies first. I could easily see them in the pay of THRUSH”

“Will do. I'll check back later. Now, you take care, my crazy little buddy.”

Illya didn't even bother to respond to that, he just closed the channel.

He slipped the communicator into his pocket and crossed the room. 

Dr. Romulus was still playing chess when Illya approached. He didn't seem to notice he had company, his concentration was solely on the game.

“Check mate” He declared, triumphantly to his invisible opponent.

“Would you care for a real opponent?” Illya asked.

Romulus looked up, puzzled. “but I have a real opponent. Did you not just see me beat him?”

Illya looked at the empty chair and then back at the doctor.

“But I would like a new challenge, if you're offering.” He gestured for the invisible opponent to leave and for Illya to take the now 'free' seat.

“Thank you.” Illya sat down and set up the board.

“My name is Arnold Romulus.” He introduced.

“Illya.”

“Is that your first or last name?”

“First.”

“Does it come with a surname?”

“Usually, but I'd...rather not give it.” Illya figured he should try to keep up the suspicious act. It would make it easier to keep his cover if he didn't have to make stuff up.

“What do you think I'm going to do with it?” Romulus asked. “Steal your soul?” He burst out laughing.

“Perhaps” Illya made his first move. Romulus stopped laughing and made his.

“Well, Illya, I know a few people in here who think they can really do that. Most of them are rolling around in a padded room.”

“I'm not sure how that would help them steal someone's soul.”

“They're mad!” Romulus shouted. “We're all mad, that's why we're in the nut house.”

“Do you really believe you're mad?” Illya asked, making his second move.

Romulus laughed, quietly. It built, slowly. Then it stopped and he looked sad. “Unlike so many in this place, I know I'm mad. I checked myself in. I want to be cured.”

“Have they helped you, the staff here?”

“The doctor's here don’t want to really help people.” He made his next move. “They just want to pump everyone full of drugs and have done with it.”

“So, why don't you check yourself back out?”

“Because I...” Romulus looked at Illya suspiciously “You do like to ask a lot of questions, young man.”

“I am inquisitive.”

“Indeed.” They played the game in silence for a few goes. Romulus took a knight and Illya took a castle. “Maybe you'd like to answer a few questions yourself.”

“What questions?”

Romulus leaned over the table, careful not to move any of the pieces. “What troubles you, my boy? Why are you here?”

“I’m afraid of dogs” Illya replied, completely deadpan.

Romulus laughed, “You’ll fit right in with Mr. Campbell, he’s afraid of all animals.” He stopped laughing. “But really, you ask me all these questions, but unwilling to answer any in return. That’s rather unfair.”

“When you have enemies everywhere, it makes you reluctant to trust anyone.” 

“I can relate to that. I’ve had a few enemies myself. But it’s all right, no one can get you in here,” Romulus smiled. It wasn’t very encouraging. 

“I heard there have been a couple of deaths here recently. Accidental, I hope.” 

Romulus stopped smiling. “Where did you here that?” 

“Rumours, mostly. Are they unfounded?” 

“They were just…suicides. It can happen. I think you’re just being paranoid.” Romulus made a move, taking one of Illya’s pawns. 

“Perhaps I am.” Illya moved his queen. “But then I’ve found it’s best not to rule out rumours altogether. There’s usually at least a shred of truth to them.” 

“I hope for the sake of everyone here that you’re wrong.” Romulus made a move without looking at the board. His eyes were drilling into Illya, who was coldly returning the stare. 

“So am I.” Illya moved his queen again. “Checkmate.” 

Romulus studied the board. It was true. There was nowhere for his king to go. “Well done.” He leaned over the board and whispered. “I sometimes wonder if my usual opponent let’s me win,” 

Illya smiled slightly. “No fear of that against me.” 

“Another game?” 

“Not right now…I think I’ll go for a walk.” He stood up. 

“There’s a garden outback, but there’s not much to see.”

“Still, I’d like some air. Excuse me” He moved away from the table and made his way across the common room. The only thing he could ascertain from his discussion with Dr Romulus was that the man was hiding something. He certainly sounded and looked a little mad, but Illya couldn’t be sure if it was genuine or not. He needed to do some discrete observations. But first, he thought it prudent to check out the Doctor’s sleeping area. 

Unfortunately, there were a fair number of wards and each had 16 beds. It would take a lot of searching the find Romulus’. Unless he was able to find the information in the administrator’s office. The other option was to wait until Romulus went back to his bed, but that could mean waiting until night time. 

On his way out of the common room he made his decision, he would find the information out from the admin office. Thankfully the admin office wasn’t guarded, but it was locked. Whoever was in charge was either out to lunch or busy elsewhere. 

Illya pulled the communicator out of his pocket and proceeded the dismantle it. Hidden inside was a length of wire. Napoleon had hidden it there in case it was needed, after all, Illya was unable to smuggle any other devices in. 

He used the wire to pick the lock, but checked first that he wasn’t being observed. Fortunately, it was coming on to lunch time and the staff were busy rounding everyone up in the common room and the garden. 

The door was easy to pick and once opened he put the wire back into the communicator. In the room was a whole wall of filing cabinets and two desks. Whoever was in charge was very efficient, each filing cabinet was labelled, making it easy to find the one that contained the patient files. He was tempted to find his own and see what they’d written about him so far, but he resisted and just searched for Romulus, which again was easy to find, due to good organisation. 

Romulus’ file had his listened as suffering from schizophrenia, but part from a variety of medications proscribed, there weren’t any other treatments noted. No therapy of any kind, not even a one-to-one. That seemed strange for a man who’d been there just over a week. 

According to the file, Dr Romulus was in ward 5, bed 7. How convenient, the same as him. Illya closed the file and left the room, checking again first that he wasn’t being observed. He was lucky, but rounding the corner and spotted his least favourite orderlies approaching. 

“What are you doing down here?” One asked. “It’s lunch time.”

“Oh good, I’m starving.” 

“You didn’t answer,” The other asked. “What are you doing down here?”

“I did not realise it was off limits. I’m new here as you know. Easy to get lost.” 

The two approached, stopping inches from Illya. They towered over him menacingly. 

“Are you causing trouble?” Illya was close enough to read his name badge. Dan, it said. 

“Like the trouble I was causing last night. Or so you claimed.” 

“I don’t think you remember things correctly,” Dan said, planting a solid hand on Illya’s shoulders. “Would you like a replay.” 

Illya didn’t like the way this was potentially going. He couldn’t afford to give these guys any reason to sedate or attack him. He decided the best thing to do was the stay quietly. 

Thankfully, before anything else could be said or done, a nurse entered the corridor from behind the orderlies. 

“Found a stray, have you?” She asked. The orderlies turned, but Dan didn’t take his hand off Illya’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, found him roaming the halls.” 

“Well, that’s no good. It’s lunch time.” She looked at Illya. “You’re new, aren’t you?” Her name badge said Gloria. 

“Yes.” 

“You look like you could do with a good meal, come on.” She gestured for them all to follow. Illya couldn’t help smiling a little, but Dan didn’t let him go, instead he pushed Illya down the hall behind the nurse. 

 

Napoleon met Gloria in a small diner not far from the hospital. She only had an hour for lunch and had to take it after the patients had finished theirs. 

Napoleon had not wasted his morning. He’d had headquarters run a background check on Gloria, to be certain that she wasn’t in the pay of THRUSH or was likely to have any dealings with them. Or anyone she was associated with. He’d received a call back ten minutes ago to say that she checked that, they couldn’t find anything that said she would be working for THRUSH or knew anyone who was. Napoleon trusted that the background check had been thorough and hoped that he could trust this young nurse to help them. 

“Thanks for meeting me” Napoleon said as she slid into the booth. 

“Thanks for inviting me. It’s not often I get asked out to lunch.” She picked up a menu. “I’m famished. Watching patients eat always gives me an appetite.”

“I can imagine.” He smiled. “I ordered a bottle of wine, I hope that’s okay.”

“I can only have a little. Wouldn’t look professional if I showed up smelling of booze.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Napoleon poured them both a glass, making sure his was larger. 

“So, what about you?” Gloria asked as she perused the menu. “You never said what you did for a living. Are you on your lunch break or is it your day off,” 

“Oh, I’m currently working. Believe it or not this is part of my job” 

“Taking young ladies out of lunch?” Gloria asked, perplexed.

“No, though that would be a most enjoyable job. No, I work for an organisation called U.N.C.L.E.” He took his badge out of his pocket and showed her. 

“I’m vaguely aware of them. Some kind of government group or something.” 

“Yes, something like that. It’s a type of law enforcement agency. I’m here investigating St. Theresa’s”

Gloria put down her menu and leaned back. “Are you investigating the deaths? The ones that happened last week,” 

“Yes, I don’t suppose you can tell me anything about them.” 

Gloria laughed. “Oh, I see. That’s why you’re interested in me. For information.” 

“Well…” Napoleon looked a little sheepish. “I won’t lie, that is why I approached you, but I had to get to know you first so I can learn whether I can trust you. One of your patients is a dangerous man and we needed to know what he’s up to.” 

“Dangerous?” Gloria frowned. “Which patient?” 

“Arnold Romulus. He’s a member of a dangerous organisation and while he’s posing as a patient in there, we believe he’s actually up to something. That’s what we’re trying to find out.” 

“If he’s faking it, he’s doing a good job. Guy gives me the creeps. He just sits and laughs to himself, but there’s something manic in his eyes. Do you think he’s linked to the deaths?”

“Maybe. I haven’t been able to find out anything about these deaths. Can you tell me?” 

Gloria sighed. “There’s no a lot to tell, they were both listed a suicides. One guy was found hanging in his room and the other somehow managed to overdose himself. The strange thing was, neither was investigated in anywhere. They were just declared suicides and that’s all. No police were called.” 

“And that’s not normal?”

“No, I mean, I have no idea how anyone could overdose themselves unless they got access to the drugs store. 

“Can you tell me anything about the guys who were killed. We they listed as suicidal?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss their medical records, but Bill was listed as a risk a few months back, but he’d been doing better the last few weeks. Darren I wouldn’t have believed it. He wanted to get better.”

“That certainly points to something amiss, especially if there were no investigations into their deaths Who’s authority was it to decide that?”

“The head of administration, Dr. Walden. He’s usually a trustworthy fellow, but lately he’s been very closed off. He looks tense most of the time.” 

“Mm, sounds to me like a cover up and maybe some blackmail.” 

“Whatever’s going on, I don’t like it. Can’t you go in and investigate?”

“We already are investigating; I’ve got a guy on the inside. He should be calling in soon.” 

“I hope he’s not one of those two new orderlies. They’ve given me the creeps ever since they showed up a week ago.”

“A week ago, so around the same time as Dr. Romulus. Interesting. No, they’re nothing to do with us” 

A waitress came over to take their ordered. They both ordered a sandwich and some fries. 

“So, who is your man on the inside. Is he the new arrival we had last night, the blond haired guy with the strange name?”

“Illya, yes, and I’m hoping he’s discovered something useful.” 

“He’s got quite an intense stare and rather suspicious. That must be part of his…um…cover”

“No, that’s just Illya. We spies have to be slightly paranoid. Keeps us alive.”

Napoleon moved in a little closer. “Now, I was hoping when you go back to work you could make contact with Illya and give him some help. Are you willing to do that?”

“If it’ll stop anyone else from dying, I will.” She moved a little closer, so they were snuggled up close. “But we can enjoy our lunch first, I hope.” 

Napoleon smiled. “Of course,” 

 

Illya spent the afternoon observing Dr Romulus as he continued to play chess against his invisible opponents. He had to be careful not to make it obvious, so he watched everyone else in the room too, playing on his character’s paranoia. 

It was actually refreshing that he didn’t have to hide himself behind a newspaper or a wall. He could be as open as he wanted to be, as long as he made it appear he was watching everyone and not focusing on Dr. Romulus. He always kept the doctor in the corner of his eye, to be safe. 

As the afternoon wore on, nothing much happened apart from Romulus taking a break from chess to read a magazine. But half an hour later be was back to playing chess. Illya was tempted to challenge him to another game, just for something to do. However, this was hardly the first time Illya had been on a stakeout, so he knew how to be patient. 

The monotony of the day was finally broken when another one of the patients, a man who spent most of his time muttering to himself in the corner, approached Illya in an agitated state. 

“Something’s wrong with my skin.” He said, anxiously, brandishing his left arm, “It’s burning!”

Illya looked at the appendage thrust into his face. “It looks fine.” 

“It’s burning! It’s gonna catch fire.” He screamed, but it was cut off when he started choking. He staggered away, about to collapse to the floor, but Illya grabbed his ‘burning’ arm and helped lower him down. Two different and friendlier looking orderlies came running over to the choking man.

“What’s happening here?” One asked.

“He said his arm was burning and then he started choking.” Illya explained.

“We better get him to the infirmary.” 

Dr. Romulus pushed his way through the gathering crowd, eager to get a look at the poor man writhing on the ground. He didn’t step forwards or make any comments, he just studied the man from the front of the crowd. 

Illya spotted him and watched as Romulus’ expression changed from surprise to annoyed. He schooled it fairly quickly when he locked eyes with Illya. 

Meanwhile, the two orderlies lifted the choking man’s body off the floor and carried him away in a hurry. 

The show was over and while some patients drifted back to what they were doing previously, some stood around in groups discussing what had just happened. 

“He’d been looking ill all day.” One young lady said, “The slipped something into his medication, I always knew they were poisoning us.” 

“I think it’s some new diseases.” An older patient said. “Darren looked the same before he died.” 

“Are we all going to die!” The young girl shrieked. 

“Was Darren the young man who killed himself a week ago?” Illya asked the group. 

“He didn’t kill himself. He was poisoned. They’re poisoning us!” The girl was hysterical. Her shrieks caught the attention of a nurse. 

“Katie, you’re going to have to calm down, or you’ll have to go back to your bed,” 

“But can’t you see!” She screamed. “We’re all dropping dead! No one committed suicide, we’re being poisoned. Bill, Darren and now Henry. They all looked sick. They were poisoned!” 

The nurse gestured for the two unfriendly orderlies to take Katie away. She went kicking and screaming, at least until Frank clamped his hand over her mouth. The nurse followed. 

“Do you believe that?” Illya asked the remaining patients. 

“I don’t think they’re poisoning us.” The old man, Karl, said, “But there’s something going on, I just wish I knew what.” 

Illya looked across the room to Dr. Romulus who was once again sat behind his chess board, but he wasn’t playing. He was just staring at the pieces, seemingly deep in thought. 

“What do you think of Dr. Romulus?” Illya asked

“Don’t like him.” Karl said. “He’s a bit too…friendly with those thuggish orderlies. I’ve seen them talking together. I’m not the suspicious type, but there’s something going on between them.”

“Really, well, maybe they’re starting a club." Karl shrugged and walked away, distracted by something out the window. “Or maybe they’re already part of one.” Illya muttered as he took his spot back on the sofa, eyes watching the doctor. 

*

When Napoleon called, it was nearly dinner time. Illya found a corner to sit and talk, like before keeping the communicator hidden behind his hand. 

“I’ve sent you some help” Napoleon informed. “Nurse Gloria should be making contact with you at some point.”

“Good, I could use some help. One of the patients had some kind of attack. He started choking and complaining his arm was on fire. I haven’t managed to find out what was wrong, but maybe this nurse could.”

“Any theories?”

Illya sighed. “Not yet, I don’t see why Dr. Romulus would be poisoning the people here. What would he have to gain by it. I’m starting to believe that he’s genuinely insane. I just need to find out the connection between Romulus and the deaths.”

“I found out from Gloria that the two orderlies, that both you and Gloria agree are far from friendly, only started working at the hospital a week ago. I’ve managed to get a picture of them and I’m going to follow them home when they leave tonight.”

“I’m starting to wonder if they don’t live here.” 

“Hopefully they don’t. I’ll check in with you again tonight. Enjoy your dinner.”

“I will if the chef learns to cook.” 

*

Dinner consisted of chicken pie and over cooked vegetables. Despite the lack of flavour, Illya finished his plate. Afterwards he was forced to join the rest of the patients in a queue to receive this medication. Illya didn’t know what he was being given, but he knew he didn’t want it. He wasn’t insane and didn’t need it. However, the orderlies were watching each patient swallow their pills just to be sure. 

After what had happened in the common room early, Illya was reluctant to swallow anything the doctors gave him, unless it was a convincing story explaining what had been going on. 

When the nurse on duty handed Illya his pills he managed to do a little slight of hand, dropping the pills into his pocket and then pretending to swallow the pills direct from the little cup. He’d need to smuggle them out later for the UNCLE labs to analyse. 

The orderlies checked and was assured the medication was gone.

Returning to the common room, Illya was surprised to find the chess board empty. Dr. Romulus was nowhere to be seen. It would look suspicious if Illya went looking for the doctor, but he needed to keep an eye on him. He decided to go look for him and on his search, see if he could find Gloria. He’d seen her in the dinner hall and had even made eye contact with her, but they had yet to actually speak. 

Illya started off by checking Dr. Romulus’ bed, but he wasn’t there or on the ward. It looked like he’d have to check all the wards. 

His search was hampered when Frank and Dan spotted him coming out of ward 1. They were both scowled at him. Illya tried to ignore them, but Dan placed a meaty hand on his shoulder. 

“The doctor wants to see you,” he said. 

“Which doctor and why?” Illya asked. 

“You’ll find out when you meet him.” He leaned down so his face was level with Illya’s. “Is that a problem.” 

Illya could think of many comments he could make, but chose to stay silent. He had to play things cool to avoid trouble. Besides, it was possible the doctor they were referring to was Dr. Romulus and he did want to meet him.

Frank led the way down the corridor, with Dan steering Illya along. They passed many of the doctor’s offices and a few therapy rooms. In fact, Illya worked it out pretty quickly that this wasn’t an official meeting. 

They stopped outside the shower room, which was empty. Illya was pushed inside and the orderlies stood in the doorway, blocking the exit. 

“Am I supposed to shower before I meet the doctor?” Illya asked. Neither orderly responded. “I knew it. You work for them don’t you?” 

“And who do you work for” Dan asked. 

“Who said I work for anyone?”

They moved in closer. Illya didn’t move. 

“We’ll ask nicely only one more time. Who do you work for?” 

“I’ll tell if you do.”

“Wrong answer.” Dan’s arm shot out, reaching for Illya’s throat, but the Russian had been prepared for an attack and ducked out of the way. He kicked Frank in the stomach and then punched Dan in the face. He sprinted for the door. 

However, Frank recovered quickly and blocked his way. Illya went in for another kick to the stomach, but this time Frank caught his leg. 

The orderly grinned. 

Illya grinned back. He bounced off the ground, swung his other leg around in an arch and kicked Frank in the side of the head. They both fell to the floor, but Illya was able to land on his hands and knees and spring back up again.

Dan took over the attack, throwing a punch at Illya’s face. He wasn’t able to duck in time and was thrown back against a shower stall. Another punch connected, but the third one Illya managed to avoid and side step out of the way. He used the momentum to jump up on to Dan’s back. With a little difficulty he managed to get his arms around the big guy’s throat and applied a sleeper hold. The orderly fought hard, swinging from side to side, attempting to threw Illya off, but the Russian held on. 

Dan was starting to weaken. His struggles became slower. That’s when Frank ripped a shower head off the wall, came up behind Illya and hit him across the side of the head with it. Illya’s hold went slack and Frank easily lifted him off his cohort. The shower head had busted Illya’s head open which was bleeding steadily. The blow hadn’t knocked him out, but left him severely dazed. 

“How do you want to explain that?” Dan asked, pointing to the cut. 

“Slipped in the shower?” Frank suggested, 

“Sounds good to me. We better get him to the infirmary and them report to the doc.” 

Dan helped Frank support the barely conscious Illya as they left the shower. Not five steps out the door they were spotted by a nurse coming the other way towards them. It was Gloria. 

“What happened?” She asked, noticing the blood dripping down Illya’s face. 

“He tripped in the shower.” 

“He doesn’t look wet” Gloria lifted Illya’s head up to get a better look at the wound. 

“Happened before he got in. Do you mind, we’re taking him to the infirmary.”

Gloria didn’t believe a word they were saying, but she wasn’t prepared to dispute it in an empty corridor. However, she did see a good opportunity to speak to Illya. 

“I’ll come with you.” She said. “I can take care of that cut. Doesn’t look too bad.” She hoped. The last thing she needed was to deal with a concussed agent who was supposed to be helping her. 

Dan and Frank both nodded and followed the nurse towards the infirmary. 

*

Illya’s memory was foggy. He remembered the orderlies attacking him and he remembered fighting them off, but he was now lying on a bed in the infirmary with a pretty nurse hovering over him. There was nothing in between to link the two memories together. However he was able to piece things together simply by the pounding pain in his head. It would have been better if they’d just sedated him again. 

“You’re lucky,” the nurse was saying, as she wiped away the blood. “I don’t think you’re going to need stitches,” 

“That’s a blessing.” He struggled to sit up. “I would like it known that I did nothing to provoke the attack...”

“I know.” Gloria interrupted, helping him. “You’re Napoleon’s fellow agent. I’m Gloria.” 

“Of course. Nice to meet you.” 

Gloria went over to the medicine cabinet to fetch a Band-Aid. “Why do you think they attacked you? I mean, they can be bullies, but I’ve not heard of them attacking anyone before.” 

“They asked who I work for, which means they suspect I’m not really here for my mental health.” 

“So what now?” Gloria gently placed the Band-Aid over the cut. 

“I need to find out what Dr. Romulus is up to and I have a suspicion that he gets up to it at night. He seems to always be visible during the day.”

“I think you’re right. I worked a night shift the second night after he arrived and the orderlies took him away in the middle of the night. They said they were taking him to the bathroom, but he didn’t come back for over an hour. They didn’t explain why, just took him back to his bed and left.” 

“It’s a fair assumption that he’ll be leaving again tonight. I’ll need to follow him.” 

“I’m not working tonight, I’m not sure how I can help.” 

“I’m going to need some back-up. Could you help Mr Solo break in tonight?” 

Gloria grinned. “Break in to the nut house. That’s backwards,”

Illya couldn’t help smiling to. “Yes, it is rather ironic,” He took out his communicator. “Open channel D. Napoleon, are you there?” 

“It’s about time you called. I was afraid they’d locked you up in a padded room.” 

Illya touched the cut on his forehead. “No, nothing so gentle. I’m with Gloria. We believe Dr. Romulus will be up to something tonight. Gloria’s agreed to help you break in tonight.” 

“Good, I was starting to feel left out.”

“Well, there are plenty of beds spare if you feel like coming in the traditional way.”

“Think I’ll stick to scaling walls instead of climbing them. All right, what time shall we say.” 

“I need to wait for Dr. Romulus to leave. Fortunately, we’re in the same ward. When he leaves, I’ll follow and then I’ll give you the signal to enter.” 

“Sounds good. Just be careful. We still don’t know what he’s up to.” 

“By tonight we will.” 

*

Midnight came and went and still Dr. Romulus hadn’t moved from his bed. It was hard to tell if he was asleep. Illya’s bed was at the opposite end of the ward and it appeared the doctor didn’t snore. Illya was used to waiting around, but he wasn’t fond of the idea of staying up all night. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to stay awake. The room wasn’t exactly silent. Three of the other patients snored, two were talking in their sleep and one guy had already woken up twice, screaming. 

Another hour past and then finally there was movement. Dr. Romulus climbed out of bed and told the nurse on duty that he was going to the bathroom. She let him go without question or comment. Illya wondered if he could use the same excuse, but if he left straight away if might look suspicious, but he couldn’t let Dr. Romulus get too far. So, Illya slipped out of bed and crouched on the floor. The beds were far enough off the ground for him to crawl under. There was only his own and the one next to crawl under before reaching the double doors. He eased one of them open gently and scuttled out quickly, closing it just as gently behind him. 

Dr. Romulus was at the other end of the corridor just about to turn left. Illya straightened up and tip-toped down the corridor, keeping an eye out for any orderlies. Reaching the corner, he peered around, catching sight of the doctor as he turned into a stairwell. Illya followed Romulus up two flights of stairs and along two more corridors before entering a room. Illya stopped a few doors down from the room and took out his communicator. 

“Open channel D.” She spoke softly. “Napoleon?”

“What’s happening?” Napoleon asked. 

“Dr. Romulus has entered a room on the second floor. I’m not sure what’s in there, but it’s surrounded by doctor’s offices and therapy rooms.” 

“Sounds ominous. Stay put, Gloria and I are on our way.”

Illya put the communicator away and remained where he was. He was tempted to get closer to the room and take a peak through the window, but he thought it better to wait for Napoleon. He hadn’t seen the orderlies with the doctor. No doubt they were around somewhere and Illya felt more secure going up against them with some back-up. 

A shadow loomed from behind. Illya turned to see Dan and Frank, both pointing guns at him. 

“You’re out of bed.” Frank said. 

“I think the doctor will have something to say about that.” Dan pulled Illya to his feet and gestured towards the room with his gun. Illya sighed and followed. This was one way to find out what was going on, though not the way he’d have chosen. 

Frank pushed Illya through the door. “Looks like you were right, doc. He did follow you.”

“Oh, I love it when I’m right.” Dr. Romulus was standing by a work bench, which was covered in vials, bottles, glass jars and Bunsen burners. It looked like a laboratory. Next to the bench was an examination table, complete with restraints. There was also a cabinet containing various medicine bottles and another table covered in medical equipment. 

“Welcome to my lab, Illya.” He moved to stand by the exam table. “You’re one of a few who’s ever been allowed to see it.”

“I’m flattered” Illya said, blankly. 

“You should be, you’re not usually the kind of person I invite here, but you seem rather too curious for your own good. Now, Dan, Frank, if you could bring Illya over here,” 

With little gentleness Dan and Frank each took of Illya’s arms, lifted him and dragged him over to the examination table. Illya put up a struggle, but Frank shoved the gun in his back and he decided to co-operate. They pushed him down onto the table and buckled up the restraints around Illya’s wrists and ankles. They made sure they were nice and tight before retreating to stand by the door. 

“Comfortable?” Romulus asked

“Would it matter if I weren’t?” 

“Not really.” Romulus leaned over him, his face merely inches away from Illya’s. “Now, you don’t have to worry, I don’t plan on running any of my experiments on you. You’re not the kind of specimen I need.” 

“What kind do you need?”

“The insane kind. I must say, you did put up a convincing façade, but it didn’t fool me. And after I told Dan and Frank to attack you, well, you certainly fought them off rather well, didn’t you? Probably trained to fight, most likely by...U.N.C.L.E?” 

Illya stayed quiet. 

“It doesn’t matter really who you work for. I can tell by looking into your eyes. You’re not insane.” 

“Why are you experimenting on the people here?” 

“Oh, should I tell you my master plan. That’s what mad scientists do, don’t they and I’m certainly that.” He laughed, though it wasn’t an over the top maniacal laugh, more just for show. He stopped it quiet suddenly and looked worried. He schooled his features and moved over to his bench.

“You might actually find my work commendable when you hear it. You see, I’m trying to find a cure for madness.” 

“A cure?” Illya asked, puzzled.

“Yes, a cure for all madness. They have these new drugs out now, these anti-psychotics that are supposed to help, but do they really. Or do they just mute the symptoms. Keep us quiet for a moment. And they come with side effects, all drugs come with side effects. Such horrible side effects, but what if there was a drug you could take one time that would cure any mental instability. No matter what the problem. Depression, schizophrenia, post-traumatic stress. One drug to cure them all with no side effects. Wouldn’t that be amazing!?” 

“Amazing, yes and highly improbable” 

“But not impossible!” Romulus cried. “I believe there is such a formula, such a cure. And I can find it! I must find it.” A desperate look spread across his features. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I know I can find it. I just need time and resources,”

“I suppose you consider the poor people in here resources. You’ve already killed two and almost killed another. How many more are you going to go through?”

“As many as I need to!” He screamed. “Until I get it right.” He calmed down. “Can’t you see I’m trying to do something good here. The ends will justify the means. It would help so many people.” 

“Including yourself.” 

“Of course including myself!” He screamed. “I’ve lived too long like this. Do you know what it’s like to feel completely isolated from everyone? From yourself.” 

Illya stayed quiet. 

“I’ve tried their drugs. They only mask the problem; they can’t cure it.”

“And why would THRUSH let you do this?” Illya asked. “What do they have to gain?” 

“Still so full of questions.” Romulus giggled. “Imagine the power you would wield if you had the cure to insanity. How much money they would make selling that cure. It would help to fund so many of their projects. I have to admit though, they had about as much faith in me as you do. That’s why they sent me here. Keep me hidden away to work on my experiments. They gave me two orderlies and a warden we could easily blackmail to keep things under wrap. But I’ll show them all. I’ll find the drug, cure myself and they’ll give me my old job back as head scientist in New York.” 

Illya considered the doctor’s words. It’s true, if there really was a cure for madness people would pay a lot for it and while Illya thought it was ludicrous, he had seen both THRUSH and UNCLE invent extraordinarily impossible things before, so maybe Romulus could do it. However, he couldn’t be allowed to continue hurting the poor patients at the hospital. Before he was done he could go through them all. 

Romulus leaned back over Illya, smiling. “But now I have to consider what to do with you. I can’t conduct my usual experiments on you, they’d be no point. I have no use for a sane person. I suppose I could let you try some of my failed attempts. You saw what happened to poor Henry. I hear he’s still in critical condition. “

Illya chose to remain silent.

Romulus chuckled. “Or maybe you are just what I needed. I’ve only had mentally insane specimens so far. Maybe what I need is a healthy, sane brain to experiment on. You never know, there might be something there I could use.” 

Illya swallowed; the only outward sign that what Romulus proposed scared him. There was no way he could allow this madman to cut into his brain. 

“Yes, that’s just what I need. Unfortunately, I think you may need to be awake for this to work. But I’m sure you’ll find it as fascinating as I will” 

Illya very much doubted that. 

“Now, where’s my bone saw.” 

*

St Therea’s was locked up pretty good at night. Their security was mostly made up of heavily barred windows and locks. There was little need for actual security guards, but there was one on duty at the main entrance. That’s why Gloria and Napoleon were going to break in through the back. 

Both Napoleon and Gloria were dressed all in black with matching caps. Napoleon was armed with sleeping darts in his gun and a few other gadgets hidden amongst his person. 

“The best way in would be to pick the lock on the door to the kitchen,” Gloria suggested. “There won’t be anyone around there this time of night.” 

“Sounds perfect. I could go for a midnight snack.” 

The lock didn’t prove a challenge, however, once inside negotiating around the shiny work benches in the dark with only a small flashlight resulted in a couple of knocks. 

Leaving the kitchen Napoleon took out his communicator. “Illya, are you there?” He whispered. There was no response. 

*

In Romulu’s lab, the doctor was too busy searching through his surgical equipment to notice the soft whine of Illya’s communicator.   
*

“Illya, come in?” Still no reply. 

“How are we going to find him?” Gloria asked. 

“I can track his communicator. I just hope he still has it on him.” 

*

“Ah, here it is” Romulus returned to Illya, brandishing a nasty and slightly rusty looking bone saw. Illya had no idea where Napoleon was, but the whine he’d heard from his communicator suggested he was on his way. Illya just had to stall for time. 

“I must know something, doctor,” Illya said, trying to keep his eyes away from the vicious blade coming towards his cranium. “What do you count as madness or mental instability? Does that include curing quirks or eccentricities? Just what exactly counts as madness.” 

“Anything that stops us from functioning as human beings. Anything that stops us from being normal.”

“And what is normal. What might be normal for one could be considered crazy to another.”

“The socially accepted norm of society.”

“But who’s society? The Victorian’s believed woman who refused domestic life were insane or women who didn’t want to get married. Would you look to cure these things to?”

Romulus laughed. “You know, young man, I’m starting to think you’re just trying to distract me. We can continue this discussion after I’ve gotten a look at your brain. Oh, but first.” Romulus turned back to his table briefly and returned hold a razor. “We must get rid of all that hair first.” 

Illya was weirdly relieved to hear that. While he hated the idea of anyone touching his hair, at least it gave him a reprieve and bought Napoleon some time. 

*

The tracking signal brought Napoleon straight to the door that led to Dr. Romulus laboratory. On the way they only had to avoid a couple of nurses and one tired orderly. Gloria was a little surprised they hadn’t encountered either Frank or Dan. 

“They might be with the doctor.” Napoleon said as he crouched under the window of the door. “Now, I’m going to take a quick peak. You stay down,” Gloria nodded. 

Napoleon slowly raised himself up, just enough to peer through the window. The tableaux before him made him both want to rush in and giggle at the same time. Romulus was menacing Illya with an electric razor and while that seemed funny, it led Napoleon to some dark conclusion regarding Romulus’ plans for his partner. 

There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the room, but if he just burst in guns blazing it could endanger Illya. Instead, he took out his gun, loaded with sleep darts and slowly pushed the door open, just enough to squeeze the gun through the gap. He aimed carefully at the doctor, but before he could pull the trigger the doors swung open and a hand grabbed him by the shoulder, dragging him inside. Frank took the gun from Napoleon’s hand and aimed it at him. Dan kept a tight hold of Napoleon’s shoulder. Frank then dragged Gloria into the room, a hand clamped around her arm. 

Romulus’ looked up, surprised. “Oh, I take it these are friends of yours?” 

“A perfect rescue as usual.” Illya said, leaning his head back to get an upside down look at Napoleon.

“I could come back after he’s shaved your head.”

“Actually, Mr…”

“Solo.”

“Mr. Solo, you can watch. I have a few little experiments I want to run on your friend’s brain.” He turned on the razor.

“He’s been experimenting on the people here,” Illya said, “He’s trying to find a cure for madness.”

“Really? It’s that a rather insane idea.”

Dr. Romulus paused and looked up. “It’s not crazy!” He shouted. “I will find a cure and your friends brain is going to help me. A nice, healthy, functioning brain. I almost can’t stand it.”

“You know, I always had my suspicious about Illya’s sanity.” Napoleon said desperately. “I’ve heard madness runs in his family.” 

Romulus looked up “Really?”

“Yes, well, he’s Russian, they’re all a little mad, aren’t they?” 

Illya didn’t take kindly to that remark, but he didn’t dispute it. 

“I believe this is just another distraction.” Romulus said, angrily griping Illya’s hair.

“It’s your risk to take.” Napoleon coughed gently and then coughed again harder, this time holding his hand to his mouth. He spat out a capsule he’d hidden under his tongue. Griping the capsule between his fingers he broke it open. Before it could spew out the gas inside he threw it at Frank. The distraction allowed Napoleon to elbow Dan in the stomach and pull away from his grasp. With Frank choking on fumes Napoleon only had Dan to worry about. 

“Gloria, untie Illya.” Napoleon instructed while dodging a punch to the head. 

Gloria ran to Illya’s side, but Romulus put down the razor and was brandishing the bone saw again. 

“Now now, my dear, back away and you won’t get hurt.” 

There was nothing in reach for Gloria to use as a weapon and by the time she’d untied even one of Illya’s hands she could get seriously hurt. However, Romulus was leaning over the table and she was right up close to it too. She couldn’t strike his head, so she kicked him under the table instead, right in the knee. 

Romulus wasn’t expecting it and it was a strong enough blow to force him on to one knee. It gave Gloria enough time to untie Illya’s left hand which was all he needed. Illya was able to undo the rest of the straps himself. With both hands free, he sat up and punched Romulus in the face, just to keep him down long enough to free his ankles. 

While that was happening Napoleon was struggling to fight off Dan, who had managed to get some punches in, leaving Napoleon up against a wall, but a hard kick to the stomach pushed Dan away far enough for Napoleon to jump free. 

Just like Illya, Napoleon relied on agility and intelligence to win a fight more than brute force. He danced around the giant orderly, trying to disorientate him, but a solid punch in the shoulder sent Napoleon to the floor. 

To make matters worse, Frank had recovered from his exposure to the gas. It hadn’t been toxic (just in case an agent accidently bit into it), only designed as a distraction. Frank shook his head and raised his gun at Napoleon. He was still disorientated, so it took him a few tries to focus. Before he could pull the trigger, Illya leapt on his back. The surprise of the sudden attack made him drop the gun. 

Each man now had their own orderly to take care of. Napoleon had given up on agility and was just ramming his shoulder into Dan’s stomach while Frank was able to get a hand up over his head and yank Illya off his back, throwing him to the floor. That didn’t keep the Russian down for long, he bounced back up and went straight in for a body tackle, pushing Frank back against the wall. 

Meanwhile, Romulus had managed to shake off the blows to his face and knee and was watching the two fights curiously. He was not a fighter and didn’t want to get involved physically, but he needed to do something to stop these two men from ruining his work. 

He opened a draw at his work bench and selected a vial at random. It was one of his failed cures and he figured a large enough dose of one should cause an over dose. The question was, which of the two men should be try it on. He still wanted to get a look at Illya’s brain, but Napoleon’s comment about Illya’s family history put a little doubt in his mind. Maybe it was worth trying Mr Solo’s brain instead. 

The debate was settled for him when Frank managed to pin Illya down on the table. That put the Russian within easy reach of the doctor’s syringe. Taking his chance, Romulus stabbed the syringe into Illya’s shoulder and depressed the plunger. Illya felt the pain of the needle, but was unable to do anything about it. 

However, Gloria was able to make another attack on the doctor, this time smacking him round the head with the razor. Romulus went down, barely conscious. 

Illya managed to kick Frank away and yanked the needle out of his shoulder. 

“Thank you.” He said to Gloria, throwing the empty needle away. 

Deciding it was time to end this struggle, Illya dived out of Franks next attack and dropped down on top of Napoleon’s gun. He was able to pick it up and aim it at Frank just in time to fire off a shot, before the orderly was able to make a move. He went down instantly, stunned. Illya turned the gun on Dan next, but Napoleon was just finishing him off, ramming his head into the wall hard enough to knock him out. 

Illya stood up and turned his gun on Romulus, who was still dazed.

“You ruined everything” He sobbed. “You can’t take it all away from me.” 

“I’m sorry doctor,” Napoleon said while straightening out his tie and hair. 

“If there is a cure, you went about finding it the wrong way” Illya said, leaning on the exam bed. 

“We’ll save your research,” Napoleon said, looking around at the medical paraphernalia. “Maybe something can be made of it.” 

“Napoleon, I don’t feel so good,” Illya said, 

Napoleon frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Illya was sweating and unsteady on his feet. He touched his shoulder. “Syringe.” 

Napoleon was confused, but he spotted an empty hypodermic on the floor. He picked it up and turned to the dazed doctor.

“What was in this?” He asked, urgently.

Romulus looked at the syringe, eyes a little unfocused. As his head cleared he got a better look and started to laugh. “I don’t know. Could be anything.” 

Illya looked around the room, his vision out of focus. They landed on one of the Bunsen burners that had been burning away quietly with just a small flame, but suddenly a spark jumped out and ignited a sheet of paper beside it. The fire spread far more rapidly than it should of and within seconds the whole bench was on fire.

“Napoleon!” Illya cried, “Get a fire extinguisher” He stumbled away from the table, desperately looking for something to smother the flames. 

“What for?” Napoleon asked, confused. 

“Do you not see the fire?” Illya asked, surprised. “If we don’t stop it, it’ll spread.” 

“Illya, there’s no fire.”

Illya was too focused on his task to hear Napoleon. He couldn’t see any extinguisher’s but there were some sheets piled up in the corner. As he went for them the fire jumped to the floor and spread in all directions with such speed it was as if the floor was covered in gasoline. 

Illya was driven back into the corner. “Napoleon!” He shouted. “Don’t just stand there, find a fire extinguisher!”

“Illya, there’s no fire!” Napoleon shouted back, 

“It’s whatever was in that syringe.” Gloria said. “It’s making him hallucinate,”

“Yes, I’d gathered that.” He turned to Gloria. “I want you to stand by the door and stop anyone from entering. The last thing I want is someone coming in here thinking Illya’s insane.” 

Gloria nodded and went to stand by the door.

Napoleon turned to his frightened partner and slowly approached. “Look, Illya, think rationally. It’s the drug, there is no fire.” 

“But I see it.” Illya was now backed right into the corner with nowhere to do. 

“I know, but I don’t.” Napoleon continued forwards. “Why would you be able to see it and I can’t?”

Illya looked passed the flames at Napoleon who appeared to him to be walking through the fire, but as he got nearer the flames engulfed him. Napoleon was still moving forwards, but now he was burning, his flesh peeling away and his skin turning black. 

“Go back, Napoleon!” He cried. “You’re on fire.”

Napoleon didn’t stop. “If that were true I’d be writhing on the floor in agony, but I’m not. I’m not on fire. The flames aren’t real. Listen to me!” 

Finally, a spark of rational thought entered Illya’s head and what Napoleon was saying started to make sense, but the flames looked so real. However, there was no heat coming from them, but at the same time, Illya was sweating. It was all so confusing. 

Napoleon was within arm’s reach of Illya and while Illya still tried to pull away, Napoleon stopped and offered his hand to his friend “Trust me.” 

Illya stared at the burning, charred hand and wanted to bat it away, but he did trust Napoleon. He had to trust Napoleon. 

Experimentally, he tapped Napoleon’s hand and it didn’t feel hot, nor could he feel scorched flesh. He took a breath and grabbed his friends hand. Napoleon pulled him out of the corner and grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Look at me.” Napoleon ordered. 

Illya looked into Napoleon’s eyes. The flames were dying down; his skin was no longer melting. 

“It’s all right, just keep looking at me.” 

Illya did as he was told. He ignored the flames that continued to lick and crackle around them. But slowly, they were starting to die away. He was starting to truly realise that the flames were not real and everything would be all right.

“Has this place driven me mad?” He asked, breathlessly. 

“It’s just the drug. Romulus injected you with something, remember?”

“Yes and I don’t see how it could cure madness.” He sagged a little in Napoleon’s grip. “Are you sure there’s no fire?” 

“I’m sure.” Napoleon said, soft, but firm.

“Then, why can’t I breathe?” Illya wheezed. His body went limp, but Napoleon held him up. 

“Gloria!” He cried. “Help me.” 

Gloria came straight over and helped Napoleon drag the barely conscious Russian over to the examination bed. Without much trouble they were able to lie him down on the bed.

Gloria checked his pulse. It was racing. His breathing was coming in short pants.

Napoleon took out his communicator. “Open channel D. Emergency. I need an ambulance sent to St Theresa’s psychiatric hospital.” 

“Acknowledge. Dispatching now.” The female voice on the end said. 

“Anything you can do?” Napoleon asked Gloria. 

“I’m just a nurse and without knowing what was in the syringe I’d daren’t do anything. I should probably go get the doctor on call. He might know what to do.”

Before she could move, Illya’s gasps for breath got more desperate. Grabbing Napoleon’s jacket with enough strength to nearly unbalance the American, Illya tried to say something, but instead his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out. 

“He’s not breathing,” Napoleon announced. He checked Illya’s pulse which was thankfully still there, but slowing down. Napoleon opened Illya’s mouth, ready to perform CPR. 

“Wait,” Gloria shouted, spotting something on the bench of medical equipment. She reached for it, but Dr. Romulus stood in her way. 

“This is my equipment,” He said. “I won’t let either of you touch a thing. You’ve already ruined everything.” 

“We don’t have time for this.” Napoleon picked up his gun from the floor and shot the doctor with a sleeping dart. He went down hard. 

Gloria was able to get passed him and reach for an inflatable bag device with a face mask attached. She stationed herself at the head of the bed and positioned the face mask over Illya’s nose and mouth. Holding it securely in place she began rhythmically squeezing the bag. 

Napoleon watched Illya’s chest rise and fall. He leaned on the bed and let out a heavy sigh. 

“Is this how most of your assignments end?” Gloria asked. 

“Not most of them, thankfully.” Napoleon managed a weak grin, but he was too anxious for much more. He just hoped Illya was able to hang out until help arrived. 

*

By the time the ambulance arrived at UNCLE headquarters, Illya still wasn’t breathing on his own nor had he regained consciousness. In medical he was placed on a respirator and the tests began to find out what he’d been drugged with. Napoleon gave them the syringe, hoping they would be a small trace left to analyse. He left them to get on with it while he made his report to Mr. Waverly. Sadly, his side was lacking in detail. They’d managed to retrieve a journal written by Dr. Romulus explaining some of what he’d been trying to do. It was largely scientific and pretty hard to understand. Clearly written by someone not in their right mind. 

“We’ll have everything analysed,” Mr Waverly said, leafing through the journal, “but it seems the drug Mr Kuryakin was given contained, among other things, a hallucinogen. Apparently Dr. Romulus thought it might have a counteractive effect.” Waverly shook his head. “A brilliant mind wasted, but the hospital can return to normal now without Dr. Romulus conducting his experiments.” 

Napoleon was sat opposite his boss at the round table. “What is going to happen to Dr. Romulus?”

“Oh, he’s being sent away to a special hospital for the criminally insane. One where he’ll be watched most carefully, I assure you.” 

“I hope so.” Napoleon was slightly annoyed he’d loaded the gun with sleeping darts instead of bullets. 

After being dismissed Napoleon tried to write up his report, but it didn’t sound right. It was only half a report without Illya’s side and that was inside Illya’s head. Or so Napoleon hoped. There was the possibility that the overdose of the unknown drug could leave his partner with brain damage. Any form would be scary, even if it just effected his memory. That thought alone caused too much of a distraction for Napoleon to continue his work. He went down to the canteen to get some food. 

*

Three days later and there wasn’t much change in Illya’s condition. The only positive thing to happen was he was now breathing on his own. While that was a good sign, the Russian hadn’t regarded consciousness or shown any sign of doing so. The doctors had managed to analyse the drugs that made up the compound with the help of Dr. Romulus’ journal, but there was no cure as such. All they could do with flush it out of Illya’s system and offer supportive care. It had been a little tense at first, with Illya’s heart nearly giving out, but he was strong and was able to get through it with the doctor’s help. However, he was listed as being in a coma.

Napoleon refused to be sent on any assignments until Illya woke up, so he spent most of his time either doing paperwork or sitting by Illya’s side. Having one sided conversations with his partner was nothing new, but he usually got at least some kind of comment back, whether it was a snarky comment or some jovial dig. This prolonged silence bothered Napoleon and it bothered him more that his partner could be like this for a long time. 

On the fourth day there was finally some good news. Napoleon was working in his office, forcing himself to read some old papers when Dr. James requested his presence in Medical. Illya was showing signs of waking up. Mostly just little twitches and the odd moan, but it was encouraging. 

When Napoleon arrived Illya was starting to open his eyes. 

“Wakey wakey, Illya,” Napoleon said, trying to encourage his partner. “Are you in there?”

Napoleon was rewarded with the sight of two glazed blue eyes, trying to focus and having trouble. 

“Are you still my mad little Russian friend?” Napoleon said, praying silently that it was true, though not the mad part, but he needed Illya to pick up on the teasing. To say something, anything that showed his brain was still working right.

It took a few more seconds for Illya to focus on who was talking to him and when he did he just stared, his face blank. 

“No, I’m your perfectly sane and very tired friend.” Illya whispered. 

That was all Napoleon needed to hear. He smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. 

“I’m glad to see you survived your trip to the madhouse.” 

Illya frowned. “I remember a fire.” 

“That wasn’t real.” Napoleon pointed out. He smiled. “Or was it.”


End file.
